


Telling my self its not as hard as it seems

by orphan_account



Series: Jimbert Shit [1]
Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gay, I love my Zeppelin kids, Insecure Jimmy Page, Jimmy is good at talking about his feelings, Jimmy needs a hug, M/M, Maybe a love confession?, Men Crying, Midlife Crisis, My poor Jimmy needs comfort, Pagey, Robert is a god, THEY'RE BOTH SUCH DORKS, Well there's a flustered Percy at the end so, a lot of tension, and i love them, cute nicknames, jimbert - Freeform, percy - Freeform, unnecessary worrying, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 05:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jimmy has a bad day and makes the mistake of thinking about the future while his morale is already pretty low. It doesn't end well. Robert makes it better, much to his embarrassment.There's a LOT of crying, angst, a lil bit of fluff in there, so read and enjoy my lovelies!!





	Telling my self its not as hard as it seems

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherry_can_write](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry_can_write/gifts).



> I didn't think I'd be back writing my second Zeppelin fic, but here I am pathetically writing more dumpster garbage for whoever's reading it! Yay! 
> 
> It was Robert suffering last fic, and now it's Jimmy's turn to be comforted for all you little hoes thirsty for angst. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this episode of: "The author is thirsty but read all the Zeppelin fanfiction out there so she wrote her own!!" Note this is purely for my enjoyment, all of this shit is 100% fiction and not backed up by any real information. I'm just a slut for Jimbert. 
> 
> **Title Taken from "Going to California" by Led Zeppelin**

Jimmy is normally a very sensible person. He has his bad and good days, and he didn’t normally worry about these types of things. Maybe it was that he was getting close to 30, or maybe it was because Led Zeppelin was finally getting famous. But he’d _never_ felt this anxious in his life.

 

But then again, bottling up his feelings was a thing that he was very good at.

 

To be honest, Jimmy didn’t think that thinking about the future was bad. Sure, he couldn’t exactly trust himself, but he really thought that spending his down day thinking wouldn’t do any harm. But of course, he overthought things and he felt himself start to tremble and his mind start to shake.

 

_Dammit._

 

He knew that expectations were held high as they were getting famous, and as excited as he was, he just couldn’t help think about where they were going to go. What was going to happen to them? Was he _good_ enough for this kind of life?

 

Truth be told, Jimmy was a man that was pretty open to change. He liked to switch things up once and awhile, and being part of Led Zeppelin was the greatest decision of his life so far, but sometimes he got too into his thoughts.

 

He could think of adjusting to almost _anything_ else, but he couldn’t think about life without Robert. He couldn’t handle that change.

 

Shakily breathing in, he told himself that _he would be okay, he was just anxious, overwhelmed maybe._ That seemed very “Jimmy” didn’t it? To worry about unnecessary things? He opened his notebook and scribbled a few lines for a song without a melody, his hand shaking slightly as he wrote. _I can’t let this shit end. I don’t want it to._

 

To put it simply, _yes_ , the rest of Led Zeppelin knew about Jimmy’s “things” that he had when he felt at his absolute worst and he was feeling down, but they didn't’ exactly know the full extent of it.

 

They weren’t there for the moments when Jimmy would skip out on a night at the bar, or shopping, and they weren’t there for the long times Jimmy spent under his covers alone, trying to control his thoughts, his body, his breathing as light sobs shook his shoulders and his long black hair was soaked with tears. His mind would suck him in when he was alone, and he could do nothing but attempt to ride it out, toxic thoughts plaguing his mind.

 

No, they didn’t need to know about that part. For all he cared, “Jimmy Page, always worrying” was all they knew, and all they needed to know.

 

Of course, they wouldn’t know anything, especially if they were all _dead_ . He felt his breath hitch. _Jesus._ Why would he even _think_ of something like that?

 

_But what if Robert’s dead, and the last word I uttered to him were completely meaningless?_

 

He had no way of knowing if it was the last goodbye.

 

_I’m overthinking it--I’m overthinking it--I’m overthinking it--he’s not dead, he’s okay and safe and he’s not going anywhere--but what if he is? What if he doesn’t die today, but--_

 

“Fuck.. _”_ he whispered under his breath. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his Saturday afternoon. He didn’t want to be thinking of these things. But it was like he couldn’t control himself. He felt his eyes sting.

 

“He goes to the store all the time without me…” he said shakily to himself, “He’s been fine every other time. What makes today different?”

 

He knew he was teetering off the edge today. He’d been bottling up his insecurities and worries for a while now, and he was just waiting for it to explode. Any other day, he would be thinking sensibly, having a quick cry and getting on with his life, but for some reason, he couldn’t get over it.

 

He sniffled and blinked, finally feeling tears stream down his face and blurring his vision. They were warm against his cool skin, making him bite back a sob quietly and grip his pencil tightly. He tried breathing slower, placing a comforting hand on his chest to try and steady himself, but nothing was working. _Nothing was working._ Finally losing a bit of his self control, he snapped his pencil in two, whipping it across the room and slammed his notebook on the coffee table, throwing himself onto the couch and pressing his face into a pillow.

 

_He really fucking hated these days._

 

He sniffled pathetically, letting the tears soak the pillow and the sleeve of his arm until a sound startled him.

 

Footsteps. Grocery bags rustling. _Oh my god. He’s home._ He felt a wave of relief wash over him as the familiar keys jingled outside the doorway. But at the same time, he also felt mortified. _This isn’t happening, there’s no way in hell that Percy’s walking in on me having a mental goddam breakdown._

 

He considered jumping up and running to his room or the bathroom, locking his doors until he could pull himself together, but as he threw himself up from the couch and only made it halfway across the living room, he realized he didn’t have time to do exactly what he wanted as Robert came through the door.

 

“Why, hello Pagey!” he heard Robert’s high voice pierce the silence as the door was shut behind him, setting down a few bags of groceries. It made his heart hurt. He couldn’t say goodbye to Robert. _He couldn’t live with himself if he had to say goodbye to him._ The blonde swore under his breath when one of the bags tipped over slightly.

 

“Robert?” Jimmy sniffled, rubbing his eyes quickly with the sleeve of his button-up shirt. He hated how pathetic he sounded.

 

“Yeah, it’s just me. Bonzo and Jonesy are meeting us later. Hey--are you alright, Pagey?” Robert’s blue eyes flickered to confusion, his mouth open slightly as his eyebrows crinkled. Jimmy didn’t meet the singer’s gaze, wiping frantically at his eyes.

 

“N-nothing’s wrong, Perc--” Jimmy tried to say, letting a few curls fall in front of his eyes. But despite everything Jimmy had said, the singer persisted, stepping closer.

 

“Pagey? Hey--come here--what’s wrong?”

 

Jimmy was about to ask what he was talking about when he realized that despite his efforts, he still had tears pouring out of his eyes, and he was just noticing now that he was still crying. Like--sobbing quietly, breath hitching as he breathed--noticeably crying.

 

Jimmy wiped at his eyes.

 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” he choked out, trying to steady his voice. He was failing miserably.

 

“Pagey, we both know that isn’t true.” Robert said gently, “here, why don’t we sit down and you tell me what’s got you so down?”

 

Jimmy could only stutter, not being able to form words. Robert’s warm hands let Jimmy think twice about locking himself in his room. But not for long.

 

“I-I have to go--” he started, but the blonde cut him off.

 

“Jimmy Pagey Page, I think I’d rather _die_ than let you cry to yourself in your room like some miserable old chap.” Robert chuckled jokingly, but Jimmy winced at his wording. _Dead. Dead. Dead.  De-_

 

“When are you quitting the band?” Jimmy suddenly blurted out. Robert looked at the man, confused on why he would bringing this up now, “I--you’re so much more talented than I am, so just say it to me straight. Just tell me when you wanna leave..” Jimmy winced; he sounded so...nervous. Unlike his usual cool and collected self.

 

“Ughm..I’m not going anywhere, love. You’re all my best friends. Wait—what the _hell_ do you mean by _leaving_? What the hell is wrong with you!?”

 

Jimmy could barely see through those _damn tears_ that kept resurfacing. Swallowing thickly, he cursed himself internally; _why_ was this happening to him _?_

 

“I-I don’t know..” he whimpered. Jesus, he _never_ whimpered. But all he knew was that everyone was going to die, and he didn’t know how long this “Led Zeppelin joyride” would last before they all left him.

 

He would normally feel even _more_ mortified that Robert fucking Plant walked in on one of his... _moments_ he would call it, moments when he got inside his own head too much, moments when he rethought absolutely everything he’d ever done, moments when he convinced himself that he was worthless, but the blonde was being surprisingly calm about this whole thing.

 

Before he knew it, he felt a warm hand on his forehead as the singer guided him to the middle of the couch, hand pressing softly against his forehead. The man’s calming voice murmured gently beside his ear, brushing back a few curls.

 

“Are you feeling okay? You’re not warm, are you feeling sick?” he asked, and Jimmy could feel the couch sink a bit as Robert sat down next to him. Jimmy closed his eyes painfully as Robert continued talking. Just the _sound_ of his voice was enough to make him fear when the time came that he would have to say goodbye to his friends--to _all_ of them.

 

“Jesus, Pagey! Your heart’s beating a mile a minute! What’s going on? What happened? Why are you so upset?” Jimmy felt Robert’s hand press against his chest, reading his racing heartbeat. His voice spoke quietly and gently, something Jimmy would normally find soothing. But not right now.

 

And he took _one_ tearful look at Robert, and all his mind threw at him was an image of Jimmy putting Robert in the ground, he was sick--he was _dead._ Or the image of Robert just...leaving. And Jimmy never saw him--or anyone--again. He made himself sick. Any _sane_ person wouldn’t think about burying their friends.

 

“Hey, stay with me, Page...” A shiver went up the tall man’s spine as he somewhat came back to reality.

 

You see, normally at this point, Jimmy takes a bit to get out of his own head. Alone. But _Robert_ is here now, and Jimmy doesn’t have enough time to set himself straight. So felt himself snap. And his mind spiral.

 

And suddenly he was thinking of everything all at once and he _hated_ it.And Jimmy felt Robert’s presence and looked at his notebook and the snapped pencil on the ground and the grocery bags spilling by the front door and the ugly green couch they bought together and he suddenly felt a sense of dread and he _didn’t know why._ He hated not knowing.

 

But he knew that he didn’t want Robert to leave. He didn’t want to wave goodbye as the tidal wave that was his mind slowly consumed him until he was practically drowning. _They couldn’t leave him._ Maybe that’s why he felt so dreadful. He didn’t know what would happen to them. _What would happen to Zeppelin._

 

And he knew he would have to wave goodbye to everyone at some point, but what if that was today? Or tomorrow? What if _he_ was dying? What if he had cancer or a stroke or a heart attack or dropped dead in his sleep? _He couldn’t sleep._ What if--oh god--what if Robert was _dying_ or Bonzo or Jonesy or something absolutely _dreadful_ was happening at this very moment that he couldn’t control?

 

He felt his body crumple into itself and he gasped for air. He heard Robert’s echoing in his mind; so loud, _too_ loud, and he stared up at the blonde who looked confused, a hand reaching out to him. He let his mindset control his movements, and he started blurting out things he’d rather keep hidden.

 

And through his tears and unawareness, he heard the sound of panicked yells and someone trying to shake him and the dreadful feeling he had in his stomach all day ran through his veins and took hold of him.

 

“Jimmy…” a voice that sounded like Robert’s said softly. Jimmy gazed up at the man. He couldn’t say anything. _He had so much to say._

 

And just like that, he was snapped back to reality and the warm gaze that man of sunshine gave him made a whimper escape him from the back of his throat.

 

“Love, what on earth is going on with you?” With the sudden awareness he realized how loud he was crying. And that he could barely breathe. His breath quickened.

 

“Jimmy, breathe...” Robert said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Jimmy gave the elegant man a tearful gaze, trying to match his breathing with Robert’s, who was now kneeling down in from of him. All Jimmy could see was his eyes, his _face_ , and the guitarist felt strings pull at his heart.

 

“Oh god, Robert..I just have a dreadful feeling that something terrible is going to happen…” he whimpered, trying to hide in his massive hair.

 

“What are you talking about?” Robert asked, placing a soft hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears even as they continued to flow. Jimmy had so, _so_ many things going on in his head, and he couldn’t help but ignore the question.

 

“What’s going to happen to us?” he choked out, breathing shakily. Robert frowned in confusion at the man.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He was silent.

 

“Jimmy, _please_ tell me what’s going on in your head right now” Robert said soothingly. Jimmy tried so _so_ hard, but he couldn’t stop the wave of thoughts from coming out of his mouth.

 

“W-what’s going to _happen_ to us? To _Zeppelin_ ? Everyone’s going to leave me or die and I--I know I have to say goodbye to everyone at some point but I don’t want all of this to end and I don’t want to say it. I-I can’t say goodbye and I don’t _want_ to but what if I’m dying or one of you are dying? Where do we even _go_ when we die? Or what if the band breaks up or-or something bad happens to one of us and--I-I can’t _think_ and I feel so--”

 

And Jimmy felt his hands start to shake and his face become completely soaked. He was too out of touch to feel embarrassed, so he covered his face with his hands and he felt his body crumple. And he _wept._ Because he felt so, so horrible, and empty, and out of it, and he couldn’t fix it.

 

“Oh, Pagey…” Robert said quietly. And something inside of Jimmy broke and he _didn’t fucking know why_.

 

“I don’t want it to end…” he repeated quietly.

 

Jimmy felt his breathing get uneven and his staggered breath turned into sobs. _Very, very_ loud ones that he couldn’t control and all he could do was continue to bury his face in his hands and ride it out as his shoulders started shaking.

 

“ _Shit…”_ Robert whispered, sitting down in the vacant seat on the couch next to Jimmy, pulling him into a hug.

 

“ _I’m sorry--”_ was all he could say, whispering it into Robert’s long hair. Robert hummed in sympathy as he wrapped his arms around the man. When Jimmy finally started to relatively calm down, the man stood up and walked towards Jimmy’s kitchen.

 

“I’m going to go make us something hot to drink” he said gently. But as he turned around, Jimmy let out an exceptionally loud gasp, jumping up from the couch and grabbing onto him.

 

“You can’t go!” he said loudly, burying his head into the man’s arm, shoulders shaking. Robert brushed the guitarist’s hair back, leading him back to the couch.

 

“It’s okay, Pagey,” he said soothingly, “I’m not going anywhere..” He pointed to the kitchen, just a few feet away from the living room. The two rooms merged together, being able to see everything.

 

“Look, love. You can see me in there. I’ll just be in there for a moment…” After loosening his grip on Robert’s shoulder as he watched him heat up some water for tea, Jimmy felt absolute panic turn into light sobs, then just subtle hiccups turning into silent tears, which turned into complete exhaustion, almost like a storm finally coming to its end.

 

As Robert continued in the kitchen, Jimmy breathed deeply and shuddered. The only sounds he heard were the kettle in the kitchen, and the occasional hiccup.

 

By the time Robert came back bearing two mugs, Jimmy felt his head clear. Drinking his tea slowly, they were silent. But he felt drained. And he still felt paranoid.

 

Sighing, he put his empty cup down. No one said a word, until Robert lifted his head up slowly.

 

“Now then,” the singer said quietly, “can you tell me what that was all about?”

 

Jimmy felt his face heat up. Of _course_ Robert would want to know what just happened. He wasn’t an idiot.

 

“I…” he struggled to find the words, “Sorry. Guess I just needed a good cry. You didn’t have to be there to see it..so..sorry about that…”

 

He spoke quickly and nervously, something Robert wasn’t familiar with regarding Jimmy. Robert felt a twinge of confusion.

 

“Are you...are you okay, Jimmy?”

 

Jimmy felt his shoulders tense up despite the exhaustion he felt. _Was_ he okay?   

 

“I’m fine, Robert. Really, I am…” Jimmy said, reassuringly.

 

Robert frowned. “I don’t think whatever just happened to you was ‘fine’.”

 

Jimmy sighed.

 

“What were you talking about earlier that was making you so upset? Something about saying ‘goodbye’, or something? And me...‘ _leaving’_...you?” Robert asked, careful of his choice of words in case it set Jimmy off again.

 

“Why...would you think we would leave?” Robert finally asked quietly.

 

Jimmy was silent. He didn’t really _know._ “I’m just worried about stuff, is all. It’s not a big deal.”

 

Robert scoffed, “Jimmy, there’s no _possible_ way you can play this off as a big deal.”

 

Jimmy sighed. Well, Robert was right. He really couldn’t play it off as much as he wanted to. Maybe he should just tell him how he was feeling, as difficult as that may be. Maybe it would make him feel better.

 

“What are you worried about? We’re on top of the world!” the golden man exclaimed, raising his hands excitedly above his head.

 

“I think…” Jimmy sighed, “I think that’s the problem…”

 

The singer raised an eyebrow in confusion.

 

“Elaborate, my dear Pagey.”

 

The guitarist felt his chest clench tightly at the thought of  “elaborating” but the look on Robert’s face made him ruefully sigh, and continue.

 

“It’s just...we’re almost 30, Perce. Most people have their entire future figured out by then, and us...well, what I’m trying to say is that...we don’t know where it’s gonna go. Unlike everyone else, we’re surviving on a stroke of luck and a couple albums. We might be on top of the world now, but...what happens when we aren’t?”

 

The singer nodded his head in understanding.

 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is...we don’t know where we’re going. And that.. _scares_ me a little..”

 

At that last bit, Robert blinked in surprise. Jimmy was never known for being scared about things. Maybe he would worry over stuff, but _scared_? Never.

 

“And I suppose that thought mixed with other unpleasant thoughts that were in the back of my head, and--sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I Percy..”

 

But Robert just shook his head, and wrapped the man in a tight hug.

 

“Thank you for telling me how you feel, Pagey. I know it’s hard for you to do. And even if Zeppelin doesn’t work out, I’m not going anywhere. I love you too much.”

 

Despite the exhaustion and panic he felt earlier, the sunny embrace of the man made his heart melt. _Love. I love you too much._ Those last words made his face flush.

 

“I--I mean--you know what I mean by _love,_ Pagey _!_ You know I didn’t mean--” Robert pulled away quickly, a light blush creeping up his face.

 

Jimmy realized with much amusement that _Robert Plant_ was _flustered._ He couldn’t help but suppress a giggle as the blonde tried to hide behind his  lion’s mane of hair.

 

“Just--lets get to rehearsal!” the singer said frantically, his face turning redder as Jimmy ran his hands through Robert’s blonde hair.

 

Jimmy chuckled.

 

“Alright, Percy. I’m sure Bonzo and Jonesy are waiting for us.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Aaaannnnd once again the story wraps up! If you want to show me that you want more, hit up my inbox! Kudos and comments are always appreciated so don't be shy!


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